


Common Ground

by vegapunkd



Category: Kamen Rider Build
Genre: AU where everything is the same except everyone has mental links, Aftermath of Possession, Hand Jobs, Injured Characters, M/M, Mental Link, Mentions of alien possession, Post-Episode 39, brief blow job, except aliens, mentions of multiple personalities, no one is possessed in this fic I should make that clear, when are they not, you guys know how build works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 21:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16375373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegapunkd/pseuds/vegapunkd
Summary: Banjou and Sento dealing with the aftermath of alien poison, alien possession, and one Katsuragi Takumi.Being mentally linked doesn't really make it any easier.(AU where everything is the same except mental links are a thing)





	Common Ground

**Author's Note:**

> For basically anything I fan over ever I probably have a "same but with mental links!" AU in my head, because that is just my cup of tea for some reason idek. I poked at it with Build, and wrote a bit, but mostly it was "the same, but now they know what each other is feeling!!! lol" so I never really did anything with it. 
> 
> Except this. Hopefully it stands on its own feet and doesn't leave you adrift.
> 
> As it's tagged, it's the boys post-Sento's return in 39, taking place in an approximately 40ish area that probably doesn't mesh very well with canon oops idc.

Banjou settled against the wall, wincing as his chest (and arms, and legs…) protested the movement. He couldn’t bring himself to care much about that though, giddy relief still bubbling through him, albeit calmer than before. With Sento ( _Sento_ ) back, today felt like a long-needed victory, a breath of fresh air in a stagnant pit of despair.

  


He crossed his arms on his knees and hid most of his face in them, leaving only his eyes uncovered so he could watch Sento grumble to himself as he tried to re-organize his lab.

  


“Why would anyone put these notes here, and with those—oh for...ugh,” Sento sounded almost offended, and Banjou couldn’t help but grin into his jeans. He’d _really_ missed Sento.

  


“Do you ever feel like the more you know about yourself, the less you know about yourself?” Sento asked suddenly, turning to Banjou with his face still set in exasperation. Banjou froze, unwilling to move in case Sento saw him smiling. Then Sento’s question caught up with him, and he tensed for a different reason, an alien landscape flashing before his eyes once again. He really didn’t want to get into that right now, but he blanked on anything else to say. The moment dragged on unpleasantly before Banjou finally shrugged.

  


Sento hesitated, looking a bit disappointed for a half second. Then he seemed to shake himself, spinning back around to scowl at his desk. “You know, with how memory works, it doesn’t really make sense for us to be this different. Forgetting experiences is one thing, but facts and knowledge are in a different area of the brain; it’s why I’m a genius no matter who I am.” He paused, and gave Banjou an almost expectant look. Banjou opened his mouth, but Sento abruptly kept going, like he’d lost his nerve. “Different kinds of amnesia, you forget different things of course, but for me it was all the who’s and the when’s and the what’s, not so much the how’s…”

  


“Evolt’s fault, though. Could he have made you forget, like, math, if he wanted to?” Banjou managed to jump in that time, shifting to sit cross-legged and watching Sento’s reaction more than listening to what he was saying.

  


Sento perked up a little bit and swung around again. “Potentially yes, though of course it wouldn’t have helped him to do that.” He met Banjou’s eyes for a moment and wavered before shooting off to erase something from the board. Banjou felt his heart sink. Had getting most of Katsuragi’s memories back changed how Sento felt about Banjou? Was he thinking about how best to get rid of him to protect the world?

  


No. This was Sento. Banjou _knew_ Sento, probably better than anyone else (a strange thought) and Banjou knew Sento had his back. Even if the Evolt genes in Banjou did take him over, he knew Sento would give everything he had to bring Banjou back, even his own life. It was both comforting and horrifying—the bottle felt like a lead weight in his pocket.

  


Banjou shook himself and focused on Sento again. He caught Sento looking back at him before Sento’s gaze skittered away, a more agitated edge to his movements now.

  


“...really, the only conclusion I can make is that he just wanted to fuck with me.”

  


Banjou tilted his head, considering what he’d seen of Katsuragi.

  


“He said he adjusted some of the bottles. The FullFull one, definitely. He had trouble with it at first.”

  


“Had trouble? Adjusted _what_?” Sento raked a hand through his hair and glanced over to where the driver was waiting on the table. He moved closer to Banjou, then paused and backed off again, fidgeting with a marker.

  


“...He didn’t like the jumping into the armor,” Banjou offered, eyeing Sento’s fingers as he tapped the marker on the table then tossed it aside. He couldn’t seem to stop moving, and Banjou was reminded of Kazumin, trying to get up the nerve to look at Misora.

  


“Jumping into the armor is the best part!” Sento snapped, briefly distracted enough to meet Banjou’s eyes again. They both blinked, then Banjou decided to give up on attempting to guess.

  


“What’s wrong with you?” he asked bluntly. Sento stared.

  


“A lot of things, honestly. I think a decent amount of them could apply to you too,” he responded, then seemed to regret it, opening his mouth awkwardly again before turning away with a frustrated noise.

  


Banjou steeled himself. “If this has to do with me and-and Evolt—“

  


“What?” Sento, now folded into a chair, twisted to look at him again.

  


“I mean—I was apparently completely human for a bit there, but then I took the bottle back and I dunno maybe it had like a backup stored on there or something and everything came back I guess because I can still transform but—“

  


“I know,” Sento interrupted, an odd look on his face. “I—well I don’t think I was awake for most of it, I couldn’t _do_ anything and—,” his mouth twisted. “I remember that though, he showed me. Wanted me to see you, watch him hurt you.” For a moment his words hung in the air, something vulnerable there that pressed sharp and hard in Banjou’s chest. Then Sento snorted. “Of course, you never know when to quit. Got him pretty good too.”

  


Banjou grinned. “Yeah?”

  


Sento’s own grin was sharp. “Yeah.” Then he blew out a breath. “He cut me out after that again though. Next thing I remember was saving your ass today.”

  


“Hmph. Late as usual.” There was quiet for a moment then Banjou pushed again. “So what’s going on then?”

  


Sento scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  


Banjou snorted, regretting it when his ribs complained. “Even without a link I can tell that you-what?”

  


Sento had gone stiff at his words, and Banjou couldn’t quite read his face.

  


“Did you break it?” Sento turned away almost deliberately as he asked, and the stiffness remained in his shoulders.

  


“What?” Banjou asked, thrown by the sudden shift. Was that what this was about?

  


“The link. Did you break it?” Sento was tapping at his keyboard now, but the screen was off.

  


“No,” Banjou said slowly. “I just—you know how shit I am with this stuff. Put a couple of shields up and it might as well not exist for all I can do with it.”

  


“I don’t have any shields up,” Sento’s voice was still flat, and Banjou was uncomfortably reminded of Katsuragi.

  


“I do,” he admitted, and flushed when Sento turned around to give him a disbelieving look. “I do!”

  


Sento stared at him. “You just said yourself that you’re shit with this sort of thing, and now you’re telling me you can make a shield good enough that I can’t even feel-” His mouth snapped shut, and he looked away, crossing his arms.

  


Oh, Banjou thought. He’d had a few days to get used to not having Sento in his head, and the brief flashes of Katsuragi had been enough to convince him not to take down the shields. Sento didn’t remember any of that of course, and he was more sensitive than Banjou, would have noticed the absence a lot sooner.

  


Apparently it bothered him quite a bit.

  


“Kazumi helped me,” Banjou grimaced, remembering his quiet request to the other rider. He hated having to rely on other people for things he should be able to do himself, but he’d long since accepted his lack of linking ability. “And Sawa did...something to it, to hide it?” He shifted awkwardly in his seat, but Sento had been pretty honest with him so. “I didn’t want to break it.” He didn’t say that both Kazumi and Sawa had carefully asked if he wanted to, that he’d turned them down because that would have been like giving up on Sento, and Banjou couldn’t…

  


“They were worried,” Sento said quietly, looking down at the floor and frowning.

  


“He was loud, like you. With your math. But different? You’re kinda all over the place, and you have, like, whole...equations, I guess? Popping in and out of your head, like you’re trying to make some big math picture or something. But he was a lot more focused, I think. More like a bullet train or something, speeding straight down a line.” Sento was listening with obvious curiosity, leaning in with his legs crossed on his chair. “But yeah, he didn’t really...like me...at all. And he was giving me headaches like you did at first. I just...I didn’t want him…”

  


_I didn’t want him to know me,_ Banjou thought helplessly. _I was afraid that he’d find the proof he needed that I was a monster. I was afraid he’d use you against me._

  


“I get it,” Sento said quietly. Banjou hoped not, at least not everything. “It… like I said, he and I, we’re not the same. I don’t know if we should be, if it makes sense that we’re as different as we are but… I’m sorry.”

  


Banjou sucked in a breath. “I thought you said you weren’t the same. Why apologize for him then?”

  


“We’re not so separate that I can just ignore what he did. Especially when we have the same face, and share the same links.”

  


There was something so Sento about that statement that Banjou felt his relief from earlier bubble up a bit.

  


“So,” Sento continued, “You got those shields because he was like an unwanted stranger yelling in your head. Fair enough.” He tilted his head slightly. “Why still have them?”

  


Banjou gave him a flat look, and Sento leaned back in his chair, letting his legs stretch out in front of him. “You can’t take them down,” Sento said with a half-grin.

  


Banjou huffed, and didn’t say anything.

  


“If you had just said something earlier we could have avoided all this.”

  


“How was I supposed to know you were going to pitch a fit about it?”

  


“I was _frustrated_ , not pitching any fits.”

  


“You were downright mopey.”

  


“Who would be mopey about not having to deal with you?”

  


“Some self-proclaimed genius physicist I guess.”

  


Sento looked down at him for a moment, then slid off his chair, kneeling on the floor and leaning into Banjou’s space. It caught Banjou off-guard and he stared at Sento’s eyes, closer than he’d seen them since the last time they’d had a fistfight. Or maybe the last time they’d fucked, but they didn’t usually take the time for this sort of thing.

  


“Yeah, probably.” Sento said finally with a resigned smile. He sat back, mimicking Banjou’s cross-legged position and taking Banjou’s hand in his own. “I’ll help you, if you want.” He sounded like he was aiming for casual, but he’d missed and swerved straight back into nervous.

  


Both that and the fact that he was going to need someone’s help to get them down at some point made Banjou sigh instead of scowl. “Yeah. Guess I should have taken more advantage of those couple of hours I was human huh?”

  


“It wouldn’t have helped,” Sento said absently, grabbing Banjou’s other hand. “It’s not a matter of skill, just sheer capability. Your alien DNA has nothing coded into it for links; it’s like a giant stop sign in your blood. It’s actually impressive that you can link at all, really...Ummm, okay, Sawa is amazing and I seriously can’t find these things so I need you to like, push against them or something.”

  


Banjou and his alien DNA did their best, finally managing to send a ripple through the shields that Sento could see.

  


“There! Nice.” Sento sounded relieved. “Okay, I’m just gonna…” Banjou felt him nudging at the edge of the shield, then slowly ease a tendril of energy underneath. This sideways way of connecting reminded Banjou of something, though he couldn’t quite figure out—

  


_He was burning, gasping for breath and not getting any air, but he had to keep going, push through the pain and the fire because—_

  


_He was in agony, energy racing across his skin and making his heart thunder rapid-fire in his ears, way beyond limits but he had to keep going because—_

  


_Because—_

  


_A snake, slithering through shields that meant nothing to it, bypassing fire with a laugh and crackling energy with a hiss, taking what belonged to it because—_

  


_You’re_ MINE.

  


Banjou blinked his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. He took a moment, checking that he could breathe, that he wasn’t on fire. His heart was beating fast, but not too fast, and there was no energy roiling through his body. Another moment, and he squeezed his eyes shut before slowly attempting to wiggle his fingers and toes. Everything moved when he told it too, and there was no mocking laughter in his head, delighting in his terror. He let out a shaky breath and opened his eyes again.

  


“I think that was my fault,” he croaked.

  


“You started it,” Sento’s voice agreed. “I...didn’t help. And then…well. We won’t be done sharing nightmares anytime soon.”

  


“We’re never going to be done sharing nightmares,” Banjou told him bleakly. He blinked when Sento was above him suddenly. “How come you’re up already, I feel like a truck hit me.” Even as he complained, he glanced quickly to Sento’s hair, just in case. It was messy and brown and Banjou relaxed.

  


“That’s just the beating you took today,” Sento answered. Banjou had to concede the point, especially when his body decided it just wasn't going to move. “You could stay down,” Sento suggested.

  


“No, just, get me up.” Sento gave him a Look, but moved to do so, a careful arm under his shoulders. Banjou kept going when Sento would have stopped at sitting him up, gritting his teeth to get his feet back under him. Pain made spots whirl in front of his eyes, and he shamelessly took advantage of Sento to keep himself standing until he could breathe easier again. When he thought he could manage he pulled out of Sento’s grip, only wavering a little, though Sento did not look convinced.

  


They stared at each other for a moment, before Banjou slowly reached across the mental gap. All things considered it hadn’t been that long, and yet he still felt out of practice, his grip on the link wavering and unsteady. Sento met him halfway and when they finally connected, everything suddenly expanded in Banjou’s mind, thoughts and feelings, his and not his all spinning around in chaos.

  


He couldn’t help but remember the last time they’d been connected. Evolt standing before him, pose arrogant. Kazumi to his left, Sawa behind, both radiating fear, distraught. And in the back of his mind, Sento, his usual poise and careful shielding overrun by sheer agony as he writhed in the back of that ambulance. Banjou had been able to feel Sento struggle for each breath, his own chest aching in sympathy, and it had driven him forward, to stand up again and again.

  


It hadn’t been enough and he shuddered, watching as Sento’s hand moved to wrap around his own. For a moment, he saw himself in Sento’s mind, felt the gut-deep horror that had claimed Sento to see Evolt’s smirk on his face and Evolt’s red in his eyes.

  


Then Sento pulled them back from the link, pushing it to the background with an ease that made Banjou ache in envy. Slowly, it settled back to its former position, and slowly everything began to even out. It was like his whole body had been tense, waiting for the next blow, and now that he could feel Sento in his head again he could finally relax.

  


He took Sento’s hand between his own, tracing over the veins that had been blackened with poison. Sento’s other hand moved, and Banjou felt it in his hair, stroking one of his braids to the end before tugging it lightly.

  


“This is too neat; you didn’t do it yourself,” Sento broke the quiet in a deadpan voice, and Banjou huffed.

  


“It’s my own hair, I can—”

  


“It’s too loose to be Sawa, and Kazumi always makes that bit at the top stick up to annoy you—”

  


“He does that on purpose?! That asshole!”

  


“—and I assume if you didn’t want Katsuragi in your head, you wouldn’t have wanted him in your hair either—”

  


“Bet he would’ve made a great face if I had asked him though…”

  


“—which leaves either Gentoku or Misora...and while Gen seems to have moved in while I was away, I’m guessing he hasn’t unlocked the braiding stage yet—”

  


“My hair is not a bonus level!”

  


“—so Misora. Were you moping at her? ‘I’m so _sad_ , Misora, the hero of the story is gone, and I, secondary character that I am, am overwhelmed by the frightful task of—’”

  


“That sounds nothing like me! At least flex while you’re doing it!”

  


“Would that make it more like you?” Sento teased, tugging his hand out of Banjou’s grip to comply. He peered at his flexed arm for a moment then snickered, letting it fall to curl around Banjou’s neck.

  


That was...a bit of a jump, and Banjou considered it for a moment. Sento just watched him, patient, as Banjou finally moved to do the same.

  


“The last time I saw you, you were dying in the back of an ambulance,” Banjou said, though his voice came out quieter than he meant it to. “I...if it would’ve saved you, I would have, I _tried—_ ”

  


“I’m glad it didn’t work,” Sento said, his own voice low. “I’m glad you’re still here, I’m glad _I’m_ still here.”

  


Banjou closed his eyes, letting his head drop down to Sento’s shoulder. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to hear that.

  


“It’s scary, having something to live for,” Sento continued, “because it means you have something to lose. But it’s worse, pretending it’s not, because you might still lose it anyway.”

  


His fingers drew gentle circles on Banjou’s neck. “And then you’re on your knees watching the world start to fall apart, and you know you’re both gonna die alone, and you hate it because he doesn’t deserve that.”

  


Banjou looked up sharply at those words, feeling echoes of guilt through the link.

  


“That’s—you, I—!” He scrambled frantically for the words he wanted, needed, even as Sento’s soft laugh tickled at his thoughts.

  


“Just let me talk muscle-brain, I—!”

  


Banjou gave up on words, using the hand still wrapped around Sento’s neck to pull him close, and then even closer, hoping that this kiss would say what others before hadn’t. It certainly _felt_ different—a bit rushed at first, sure, and Sento was definitely annoyed about being interrupted but. Then Sento sighed into it, and Banjou could relax, and somehow it felt less like a means to an end than it had before.

  


Before, he had shied away from the link when they’d done this, the thought of being connected both in body and mind way too intimate for his liking. Now he reached for it almost hungrily, desperate for reassurance, for proof that Sento was really here in front of him.

  


Sento indulged him, or maybe he was looking for reassurance too, and as their kiss grew more intense, Banjou could feel his warmth and affection like it was his own. The feelings were enough to make him shake, and he couldn’t help but bask in them, and try to get just that much closer.

  


He felt a jolt of surprise from Sento, and abruptly remembered that anything he was feeling, Sento would probably be getting tenfold. Hurriedly he tried to back off, but instead did the mental equivalent of tripping over his own feet and getting tangled up in his own shoes. Sento had to set them straight again, and Banjou felt himself flush red, both from his clumsiness and from the fondness he could feel from his partner.

  


“Sorry,” he muttered.

  


Sento laughed, and Banjou stared at him for a moment, trying to remember the last time he’d seen that. He felt himself grinning too, and noticed Sento’s gaze drop to his lips for a moment.

  


When Sento pulled him forward this time, their lips met in a kiss that was much more physical, but still made heat course through his body. This heat was more familiar, something they had taken solace in the past few months.

  


The familiarity made it precious though, another important part of themselves that they had managed to salvage from Evolt’s grip. Banjou knew that tracing his thumb along Sento’s neck would make Sento tilt his head and push further into Banjou’s space, and he shuddered in turn when Sento lightly tugged on Banjou’s bottom lip with his teeth.

  


As usual, Sento got bored of kissing first, and when he pulled away, Banjou braced himself to be pushed down. But tonight Sento hesitated, glancing down at Banjou and running a careful hand over the bandages on his chest.

  


Banjou winced at the ache there, but determinedly grabbed Sento’s shirt and pulled him over to their futon, then moving to lie back against it. There was an awkward moment when the pain made Banjou freeze halfway down, but Sento’s arm around his back supported him the rest of the way, and Banjou dragged Sento into another kiss once he was there, before Sento could try to move away.

  


If they waited until they were both in good condition to do this, it would never happen, and Sento knew that as well as he did, relented when Banjou pulled him closer. He ended up straddling Banjou, knees on either side of his hips and arms framing his head, clearly trying to keep his weight off Banjou’s chest even as he responded eagerly to Banjou’s mouth.

  


“Dumbass,” he murmured when they parted for a breath, “don’t complain when your ribs take forever to heal again.” He licked at Banjou’s lips as Banjou panted for breath, and then moved to press a feather-light kiss to the corner of Banjou’s eye, still a little swollen and red. His apology was soft in Banjou’s ear, and Banjou shook his head, taking the chance to push Sento’s shirt up and run greedy fingers over his chest.

  


As Sento arched into his touch Banjou moved him closer, letting lips, teeth, and tongue pull rare gasps of pleasure from his partner.

  


“Missed you,” he breathed into Sento’s skin, where maybe it meant this physical act, but both of them knew it was more than that. Sento moved back down to kiss him in response, fingers trailing lightly over any skin they could find, leaving Banjou to twitch and hiss at the deceptively effective stimulation. He had to bite back a groan as they skimmed just above his jeans, a thin strip of skin there uncovered by bandages.

  


He was starting to want more than that, and Sento was on the same page, hips moving to press them together in a slow grind that made them both groan. Banjou instinctively moved to respond in kind, only to falter with a pained whimper as his body protested the movement. He hid his face in Sento’s shoulder, biting at the cloth there to try and distract himself.

  


He thought he might have managed to cover it up, but Sento stopped moving, his cheek rubbing briefly against Banjou’s. “I felt that,” he murmured, a little breathless. Banjou wondered what it must be like, to be able to just _feel_ things from your partner through a link. Frustrated, he tried to move his hips again, with much the same result.

  


“Ow,” he muttered around the shirt in his mouth, finally letting it go as fingers stroked through his hair.

  


“Yeah, okay,” Sento shifted, and Banjou scowled when he moved back.

  


“It’s fine—” he started, only to stop when Sento interrupted him with a kiss. “Rude,” he grumbled when Sento pulled back.

  


“I learned from the best,” Sento retorted, rolling his eyes. He’d moved while Banjou had been distracted, and was now laying against Banjou’s side. He was apparently still interested in continuing at least, one leg wrapped over Banjou’s own, and Banjou forgave him quickly when his thigh pressed up firmly, exactly where Banjou wanted it.

  


“Ah—” he panted out at the sensation. Sento’s weight against his hip kept him from moving too much this time, and he let his head fall back, surprised to find a pillow there. Sento was getting annoyingly sneaky, he thought, but he didn’t dwell on it. He did take the opportunity to move his arm though, wrap it around Sento and bring him closer. Sento accepted the invitation, only to mouth at Banjou’s jaw and let his tongue trace swirled lines down his neck. “Fuck, ah,” he swore, realizing his position left him at a disadvantage.

  


He let his hands run over Sento’s chest and back, stroking at all the skin he could reach and pinching sensitive nubs between his fingers. Sento jumped with a hissed breath in Banjou’s ear that turned into a low sound when he did it again. His thigh pressed against Banjou in retaliation, and he made a satisfied sound when Banjou groaned.

  


Banjou shifted slightly in place, frustrated by his inability to move when all he wanted to do was roll over and press Sento into the floor. He paused at the sharp inhalation in his ear, repeating the motion to get a low groan, and he realized Sento was pressed against his hip, not quite rocking against him yet, but clearly enjoying his position.

  


Banjou nudged him into another kiss and let his freer hand slide very obviously down Sento’s chest, then undid Sento’s pants in a quick motion. Sento sucked in an anticipatory breath, attention very focused on Banjou’s hand now. Banjou slowed his movements and mentally reached out. A wave of frustration greeted his efforts, but Sento still pulled him closer through the link.

  


Sento was so fucking considerate it was annoying, Banjou thought, then jumped at Sento’s sudden snort.

  


“If you think…,” he panted in Banjou’s ear, “that I’m just... _indulging_ you...you’re slower than I thought.” That same warmth was spreading through the link again, but Banjou could feel the sharp undercurrent of desire (for Banjou, of all things, Sento wanted _him_ ), a coil that wrapped tighter as Banjou slid his hand lower.

  


The sound he made when Banjou pulled him out was gratifying, and pressed this close Banjou could feel Sento’s whole body tense when he started stroking him firmly. “ _Banjou_ ,” Sento groaned into his ear, and Banjou shuddered to hear it so close.

  


“Yeah?” There was always something thrilling about getting Sento this undone, where he was automatically following the rhythm Banjou set, rather than trying to make it it his own.

  


“You have no sense... _ohhh_...no sense of, of timing, at-ah!” Sento yelped when Banjou increased the pressure, and then buried his head into his shoulder when he increased the speed.

  


“Are you complaining?” Banjou huffed, hissing as Sento managed to rub against him again.

  


Sento’s reply didn’t actually seem to involve any words, so Banjou took it as a no. He watched as Sento’s hand stretched out into the air, trying to avoid grabbing at bandages, and he tapped his unoccupied one against Sento’s chest. Sento got the message, letting his hand drop to clutch at Banjou’s instead.

  


This wasn’t the most awkward position they’d ever done this in, but it wasn’t winning any awards for comfort either. Still, it was worth it to feel the way everything crashed over Sento all at once, and to hear the last, desperate sounds he made before he reached the edge. He mostly managed to muffle himself after that, but Banjou could hear him loud and clear in his head, ecstasy and relief tangled up in a wave that left his partner trembling against his side.

  


That...that was nice, the echoes reverberating through Banjou’s own body, and it took a long moment for him to remember his own need. Sento hadn’t forgotten though, and his hand wrapping directly around Banjou served as a sharp reminder, one that made Banjou cry out before he could help himself.

  


He blinked blearily down at his pants, wondering how they’d unfastened themselves and gotten pushed down to his knees with his underwear. Then Sento’s face was in front of his, on top of him again and Banjou supposed that was a good enough answer. Sento didn’t give him much of a chance to think anyway, practically diving into Banjou’s mouth while his hand moved at a steady pace. His other arm kept Banjou’s shoulders pinned, probably for the sake of his chest, but Banjou could tell Sento was appreciating it for other reasons.

  


Banjou couldn’t move the way he wanted, couldn’t drag Sento closer and _feel_ him like he ached to, and the desperate sounds he was making were sending sparks of pleasure through Sento’s mind.

  


“You _want_ me,” Sento pulled back long enough to gloat and take a breath. Banjou nearly snapped back at him, but remembered how Sento’s desire had felt, nearly as arousing as his own, and instead shoved his desperation back at Sento.

  


It was effective, making Sento hiss out a frustrated breath. “I am _trying_ to help you,” he ground out.

  


“Then _come_ _here_ ,” Banjou hoped he’d managed to make it more of a growl than a plea.

  


“You are _hurt_ ,” Sento snapped back. “I’m not doing this to make it worse!”

  


“If I can’t touch you I might as well be doing it by myself!” Banjou retorted. He’d meant it mostly in annoyance, but Sento had clearly read something else between the lines, because he stopped moving for a second to stare at Banjou. Banjou made a frustrated noise, but then inhaled sharply in surprise to see Sento apparently giving him what he wanted, shifting to lay mostly on top of Banjou.

  


It did hurt, even though Sento was still trying to avoid the worst damage. But pain was nothing Banjou hadn’t had to deal with before, and he was much more intrigued by the two or three places where his skin met Sento’s, unhindered by bandages or the shirt still shoved up near Sento’s shoulders. His hands ran up and down Sento’s back, and while Sento only sighed and moved to kiss him again, Banjou could feel his quiet pleasure in the touches, the shiver he tried to hold back when Banjou let his hands run lower.

  


Banjou was...sorely tempted, knowing Sento wanted that next level just as much as he did, and knowing the space their friends were letting them have right now was a luxury they might not get later. But he also knew his limits, and the thought of how much effort it would take to get Sento to agree, and then how much it would hurt anyway…

  


He sighed a bit wistfully, then groaned as Sento’s hand found its rhythm again.

  


“I am more than a little bit in your head right now,” Sento nipped at his earlobe as he spoke, “so don’t even start trying to think up ways to convince me.” Banjou hummed softly in acceptance, merely tilting his head to invite Sento to do more interesting things with his mouth. Sento snorted, but leaned in to bite at Banjou’s neck, even as his hand moved a bit faster.

  


The double stimulation quickly reminded Banjou of the heat collecting low in his belly, and he groaned, hands digging in to Sento’s back. He still couldn’t move well, but at least now it was because Sento was close against him.

  


“Sento…” he panted out, then abruptly froze as a thought occurred to him. “Takumi?”

  


“What.” Sento stopped just as abruptly, staring down at him. “What the hell are you—no, what, Sento is fine.”

  


“But it’s your name? Or...well...Evolt’s the one who called you Sento, and, if you’ve got most of your memories back…?”

  


“Of all the worst things to bring up right now…” Sento buried his head in Banjou’s shoulder.

  


“I don’t want to say the wrong name!” That would be extremely rude, Banjou knew that for certain.

  


“They’re both my names, it doesn’t matter, just don’t start yelling for Kazumi or something…” Sento grumbled into Banjou’s shoulder before sitting up.

  


Banjou frowned at him. “Why would I—ohh!”

  


Sento had clearly gotten fed up with the whole conversation, moving down to take Banjou into his mouth and Banjou squeezed his eyes shut after he cried out, trying not to whimper, or move at all.

  


His partner really was a genius, because when he finally tipped over the edge a few moments later, any names he might have said got tangled up in his throat, coming out as a strangled cry he only barely muffled in his fist.

  


It took a long minute for the stars to fade from his vision, but when they did he looked down, expecting to see Sento’s smug face looking back up at him. Sento was slumped against Banjou’s hip though, and Banjou could feel him panting against the skin there.

  


“I wasn’t...I wasn’t expecting that,” Sento managed when he finally looked up at Banjou. “Felt like my brain shorted out for a minute.”

  


Banjou smirked down at him. “You’ll get used to it.”

  


Sento bit him.

  


~~~

  


Sento got them more or less decent, then curled back up next to Banjou, kissing him with a soft sort of affection that they hadn’t dared to consider before tonight. This was all new, Banjou had half expected Sento to go back and start fiddling with his computer again. But Sento had wanted him like he’d wanted Sento, and while Banjou wasn’t quite ready for the soul-searching, he knew this wasn’t a physical want. Well, wasn’t _just_ a physical want.

  


“Sento,” Sento mumbled into his ear, interrupting his thoughts.

  


Banjou blinked at him then tried, “Banjou?”

  


Sento flicked his side. “Please try to keep up, especially when you interrupted everything to have this conversation.”

  


“I just didn’t want—”

  


“ _Sento_. That’s me, that’s who I am. Takumi...well, you guys all hate him anyway so…”

  


Banjou’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. “If you...if that’s who you wanted to...not Katsuragi, maybe, but Takumi...I mean…” He didn’t know what he wanted to say, only that he didn’t want to take someone’s name away from them, almost as much as he didn’t want to call Sento anything else.

  


Sento sighed. “I don’t remember everything. I don’t remember what happened after the Sky Wall, or how the light affected me. Maybe Gen could tell me some but. That’s definitely not who I want to be, especially when just being him again for a few days hurt everyone I care about.”

  


Banjou opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure. Finally, he gave up, weakly admitting, “He was mean to Misora.”

  


“He was mean to Misora, and so Sawa doesn’t like him, he threatened to kill you, which Kazumi has already threatened _me_ about, and apparently he and Gen had it out too, though I’m not certain if that was deserved or not.”

  


Banjou hmmed, more on the fence about Gentoku than he might have been a week ago.

  


“Plus, even the thought of calling me that has you halfway to freaking out.”

  


“No it doesn’t!” It completely did, but Sento didn’t have to say it like that. “I just...we thought you were gone, and…”

  


Sento kissed him again, and Banjou had the disturbing premonition that Sento was going to be doing this to shut him up a lot more often now. Not that he wasn’t enjoying it, but still.

  


“Evolt may have given me this name, but it was Misora, and Sawa, and Kazumi, and probably even Gentoku who made me Sento...I guess you were there too…”

  


Banjou huffed.

  


“Plus, it’s just a name. Can you imagine having Evolt’s DNA or something? How fucked up would that be?”

  


Banjou considered that for a long moment, long enough that he could feel a twinge of worry from Sento. It was about then he realized what Sento was saying.

  


“Hey! Asshole.”

  


“...you are such an idi—”

  


“Don’t you dare!” Banjou threw himself on top of Sento to shut him up, instantly regretting it. He collapsed on top of Sento rather than tackle him like he’d intended. Sento had his eyes closed tight, and he grunted in complaint when Banjou landed on him.

  


“If you are going to do dumb shit and injure yourself further, please at least wait until I have my shields up properly.”

  


“That hurt,” Banjou muttered into his hair.

  


“Trust me, _I know_.”

  


“Oh. Sorry.” Banjou tried to push himself back up, but Sento stopped him.

  


“What did I just say?”

  


“Am I just supposed to lie here then? Or you could put your shields back up.”

  


“Don’t want to. And if you would just quit moving around for a while and sleep…”

  


“But…”

  


(It was a while before either of them actually slept).

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I tweet at rinkufan and tumble at vegapunkd.  
> Drop me a line if you've got any burning questions or are just royally confused lol (sorry)


End file.
